


When It Rains…

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternative Universe - College, Derek catches a cold, Fluff, M/M, Walks in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When I said you should make a move, I did <i>not</i> mean resort to petty theft.”</p><p> </p><p>Derek tries not to cringe and fails spectacularly. Good thing no one’s around to see it. He stares down at the blue umbrella he’s twirling around in his hand, specifically at the tiny blue bird charm dangling off the handle and grumbles, “It’s not like I planned this, Laura.”</p><p>aka that au where Derek accidentally takes Stiles' umbrella and tries to return it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When It Rains…

**Author's Note:**

> My little "Rainy Days College AU (all human)". I'm rather fond of this one.

“When I said you should make a move, I did  _not_ mean resort to petty theft.”  
  


Derek tries not to cringe and fails spectacularly. Good thing no one’s around to see it. He stares down at the blue umbrella he’s twirling around in his hand, specifically at the tiny blue bird charm dangling off the handle and grumbles, “It’s not like I planned this, Laura.”  
  


His sister’s snorts loudly, the sound of it carrying easily through the phone, “No.  _Really_? I couldn’t have guessed. At  _all._ ”  
  


Oh how he wishes that they were standing face to face so that he could flick Laura’s forehead. “ _Laura,_ ” Derek sighs as he closes his eyes, “I called for help, not sarcasm.” If he wanted that then he’d go antagonize Stiles and/or Scott.   
  


There’s a tiny burst of static before Laura sighs. “Okay. Run this by me again. Just so that we’re clear on what happened.”  
  


Derek goes back to fingering the blue bird charm. “What’s there to be confused about?” he grumbles, rubbing his thumb over the faded yellow beak. “I left the library in a hurry and accidentally grabbed Stiles’ umbrella but I didn’t realize that till I got home.”  
  


“ _How_ _do_ you know that it’s this Stiles’ umbrella anyways?”  
  


Now he’s grateful that Laura isn’t there with him to see how his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “He came in the same time that I did.” Derek replies gruffly, “I saw him fighting with his umbrella so I knew what it looked like.” Which is the truth, just not the whole truth. He'd noticed Stiles' umbrella the first time he'd brought it in, which was roughly a couple of months ago. It's hard to forget that little bird charm hanging off the handle.   
  


Laura sniggers on the other end, “Awww, look at you with your crush! Not only do you know his class schedule and coffee order, you even know what his umbrella looks like. That’s toeing the line of creepy, Derek.”  
  


With an irritated sigh, Derek rolls his eyes up at the sky and the dark clouds above. “Just because I’m observant doesn’t mean that-”  
  


“Yeah, yeah,” Laura brushes him off. “Heard that one before. Point still stands.” Not really, Derek wants to sullenly argue back. How is it creepy to notice the pretty little charm hanging off Stiles’ umbrella when the freshman had been actually arguing with his umbrella? Stiles had ignored the people passing by, giving him strange looks as he grumbled, ‘Stupid piece of! Would you close already! Don’t make me smack you against the wall okay? I’ll do it too!’  
  


Leaning back against the bench, Derek spreads his legs slightly and puts the umbrella to rest against his thigh so that he’s got a hand free. He drags a hand through his hair and says, “If you’re not gonna help me Laura, then I’m hanging up right now.”  
  


“Keep your pants on.” Laura retorts immediately, “And I can’t believe you need  _help_  for this. Just go and return the damn thing. How hard is it to figure  _that_ out?”  
  


“Well, there’s the part where he can’t stand me.” Derek winces at the admission. Stiles and him have, at best, a highly antagonistic relationship that started on the wrong foot and stayed there.   
  


There’s the sound of fabric rubbing against fabric. “You gotta admit. You’ve got no one to blame for yourself for that.” Laura’s tone is apologetic now and Derek can only sigh in agreement.  
  


It’s something that they’ve talked about before. Derek doesn’t know what it is about Stiles that not only puts him on the defensive but also makes him act like a sarcastic ass. To be fair however, Stiles’ attitude doesn’t make it easy to be nice to him either. But the way Stiles’ acts towards him  _does_ come back to their terrible first meeting so…  
  


“He spilled coffee on my report.” Derek mumbles peevishly, scuffing his boots against the grass, “And I was on my way to submit it too! After a whole night of working on it. What was I supposed to do?”  
  


“ _Not_ yell at him in public maybe?” Laura’s dry comment makes Derek pull a face at the nearby tree.  _Please_. There is no other suitable reaction  _but_ yelling at the idiot who has just spilled coffee all over your hard work and then laughed. It’s the  _only_ reaction, thank you very fucking much.  
  


Using his knees, Derek tries to knock the umbrella back and forth between his thighs but he isn’t too successful. Two knocks in and it falls down on the damp grass before Derek can grab it. “I still say you should just return it.” Laura speaks in the meanwhile, “It could be just the thing you need to finally make a good impression, you know? He’ll see that there’s more to you than just the brooding and the glaring and general grouchiness.”  
  


The pregnant storm clouds hanging over his head rumble ominously, making the dark haired man cast a worried look up. “I guess…” he trails off uncertainly. Derek can’t help but think that he’s going to need more than one small good deed to get on Stiles’ good side. He’s going to need a fucking miracle actually.  
  


There’s another rumble, louder and longer. It makes Laura ask, “Did it start raining? Maybe you should get inside.” Derek peers up at the skies in askance when he feels a drop of water hitting his head. Sighing he picks up the umbrella and shakes it open.  
  


As soon as he’s got it open, fat raindrops begin to patter on the material before they roll down to the edge. “Just started.” he replies, eyes glancing over the library entrance before he stands up and begins to walk over. Might as well wait there than sit on the bench. It would be warmer inside at least.  
  


A thick sheet of rain forms a soft gray curtain between himself and his destination as Laura repeats her previous advice before hanging up. Derek sighs, slipping his phone into his jeans and plods on towards the library.

 

 _'Just tell Stiles that you accidentally took his umbrella, apologize and don’t act like an ass. It’s not that hard.’_  

 

Easier said than done.  
  


Derek broods over how he can return Stiles’ umbrella with the minimal amount of fuss, looking down at the ground and the small puddles there. He’s see-sawing between slipping the umbrella back into the rack and just waiting for Stiles to pick it up and asking someone from the staff to return it for him when he arrives at his destination.   
  


He looks up and freezes. Stiles is standing at the top step, shifting from foot to foot as he stares worriedly at the rain. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he’s not alone but when he realizes that it’s Derek, Stiles freezes as well.   
  


Derek opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. He struggles to find his voice as Stiles stares at him. Brown eyes tick up at the umbrella. There’s a flash of recognition there that makes the knot on his tongue unravel. “Sorry about your umbrella.” Derek’s words all but stumble over each other in their haste to come out, “I accidentally grabbed it yesterday when I was leaving.”  
  


He’s ready for accusations and yell but instead, Derek get a severely relieved,  _grateful_ look. “I thought someone had stolen it!” Stiles replies, watching Derek as he climbs up the stairs and stands next to him. He fidgets slightly as Derek shakes the water off and closes the umbrella before he hands it over to Stiles, handle first.  
  


The older man watches Stiles take the handle, fingers gently tracing over the bird charm before he beams up at Derek. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how much this… just, thanks.”  
  


Derek shrugs uncomfortably, feeling the back of his neck turning hot. “You’re welcome.” he replies gruffly.  
  


“I guess the umbrella I took was yours then?” Stiles asks. “With the blue handle? And the D… oh. D.H. Derek Hale."   
  


The initials that’re scratched into the handle. Derek blinks in surprise at the younger man. "How did you know my full name?” He can’t stop himself from asking.   
  


His surprise only increases when Stiles’ cheeks turn pink and he looks away into the rain. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re kinda popular. After we met, I asked around about you and well...”  
  


Derek’s heart is tripping over itself, like a puppy that cannot contain its happiness. He kind of feels like one actually. Stiles had felt curious enough about him that he asked around! About  _him_! That’s a good sign right? That Stiles is interested in him ?  
  


“Should I ask what you heard about me?” Derek asks, half teasingly and half worried.  
  


Stiles’ whiskey dark eyes lock with his, glimmering with surprise and amusement. “I dunno man. Some of it was pretty raunchy stuff. I heard it from a pretty reliable source that you’re into 'kinky shit’.”  
  


The air quotes, coupled with those specific words prevent Derek from sinking down into the ground in an embarrassed puddle. “Let me guess, you talked to Erica?” He asks. Stiles’ answering grin makes Derek sigh and shake his head. “I’m sorry to tell you that you’ve been grossly misinformed in that case. She loves to mess with me.”  
  


“By telling people you’re int-”  
  


Derek cuts Stiles off before he can say whatever he’s going to say. “Yes. My friends they… they’re great friends but their sense of humor leaves something to be desired.”  
  


With a sympathetic look, Stiles replies, “I know that feeling.”  
  


He’s wondering if it would be alright to ask what Stiles means by that but then Stiles is opening his umbrella with an apologetic smile. “Wish I could stay and talk but I need to be getting back to my dorm. Got a paper to finish.”  
  


Derek nods, mood sinking as he realizes that maybe he’s blown his chance. Or maybe not because this is the first time they’ve really talked to each other in a civil manner. “Good luck with that.” he says, sticking his hands into his jeans.  
  


Smiling, Stiles nods and begins to hop down the stairs. Derek stands and watches Stiles’ bag bounce against his hip with every step. He’s surprised when Stiles pauses at the final step and turns around. “Hey, how are you gonna get back to your place?” Stiles asks.  
  


The question makes Derek blink and his brain freeze. That’s… that’s a good question. “You walked here right?” Stiles continues over the sound of the rain. “And you don’t have an umbrella either. 'Cause I left yours at my dorm."   
  


Derek thinks of the fact that he’s got his laptop in his bag and the fact that his place is a good 30 minutes walk away. Without an umbrella, he can either risk getting soaked in this cold rain or try to wait it out. Which might be a dangerous risk to take considering the weather these days where once it starts to rain, it keeps drizzling for hours. In other words, Derek is going to get soaked today for sure. Unless he calls one of his friends for help and that way lies abject humiliation and teasing.  
  


"I could… walk you back to your place?” Stiles’ tentatively offer makes Derek stare at the younger man, who blushes but holds the gaze. “If it’s not too far away. Or we could go to my place and I could drive you back?”  
  


He doesn’t even have to think about this because how can Derek pass up this chance to spend some more time with Stiles. “I’d appreciate that.” Derek replies, taking the steps one at a time at what is hopefully a not to desperate pace. “I’m in Richardson.”  
  


Stiles’ smile is quick and blinding, like the sun peeking through the clouds. “That’s a five minute walk away from where I live!"   
  


As he steps under the offered umbrella, Derek’s shoulder brushes against Stiles’. "Wright?” He guesses because that’s the only other residence hall nearby. Stiles nods, their shoulders brushing against each other again as they step out into the rain. 

 

\--

 

“You know I don’t want to hear about your classes, Derek!” He winces Laura's high pitched whining, which seems twice as loud over the phone, “I want to know if you returned Stiles’ umbrella to him or not!”  
  


There’s a long pause where Derek nearly gets distracted by the sound of the rain pattering on the side walk and the umbrella over his head. “Well?” she asks exasperatedly.   
  


Derek steps over a puddle. He doesn’t want to get his good sneakers wet in this weather. With no chance of sun for the next 4 days, Derek doesn’t want to imagine how much of a headache it’d be to dry his shoes should they get soaked. “I did. Return his umbrella.”  
  


Another long pause. However, this one is a deliberate move on Derek’s part because he’s enjoys yanking Laura’s chain sometimes. “Derek, if you don’t tell me the details, I swear to God, I’m going to drive down from New York and drown you in a puddle of your own tears."   
  


Typical Laura. Always the first to tease him and all her younger siblings but she never could stand being teased in return. "There isn’t much to tell.” he admits, peering through the grey curtain that’s fallen over the campus. The weather guy had said to expect more rain but this is less rain and more of a fucking downpour that doesn’t seen to end. Derek fully expects fish to start falling from the sky, that's how much water there is in the air. “After I hung up on you, I went to the library, he was there so I told him that I’d accidentally grabbed his umbrella instead of mine. Then he offered to walk me back to my dorm because I didn’t have my umbrella.”  
  


There’s a groan from the other end of the phone. “Details, Derek.  _Details_. You’re giving me the Spark Notes when I want the unabridged version!” Derek can’t stop himself from making a sour face at that.  
  


“There isn’t that much to tell!” He insists, squinting at the light blue colored blob that’s standing on the other end of the street roughly 20 feet ahead of him. “We talked about classes for a while. He’s taking a class that I took last semester so I offered him some advice and we just… it was nice.” The last part comes out gentler than he intends it too but it seems to satisfy Laura’s burning curiosity.  
  


Laura hums as he tries to make out what the blue-ish blob is. A billboard? A car? It’s hard to say from this distance. “ _Sounds_  like it went nicely.” She teases gently. “Did you get to talk him again after that?”  
  


Derek makes sure to take a step on the inside when a car zips by, soaking the couple in front of him. Their angry yelling is creative as fuck and Derek winds up learning a few new choice curse words and phrases. “A few times. It's only been a couple of days.” he answered, stepping over another puddle, rolling his shoulder as he fights the urge to twirl his umbrella over his head.  
  


“I met him a few times in the library after that and it was… better than before.” It’s been more than better actually. Stiles actually looks pleased to see him instead of vaguely irritated, a sight that fills Derek with a deep sense of gladness. The day after their walk in the rain, they'd met again in the Library. This time, Stiles had returned his umbrella to him before bounding away. Later that day, they'd shared a table and quietly gone about doing their work. A few times after that they’ve met up at the door, having finished up at the same time and decided to walked back to the dorm together, each under his own umbrella (or shoulder to shoulder, weather permitting).   
  


It’s been pretty nice.   
  


Derek’s kind of holding his breath and hoping that there isn’t another shoe about to drop from somewhere. “Define better.” Laura asks insistently.  
  


“We’re actually talking, not fighting.” Derek replies after a moment of consideration. “And he doesn’t look at me like I threatened to kill everyone he loves.”  
  


“What the hell kind of first impression did you make that he used to make a face like that at you?"   
  


"I don't want to talk about it.”  
  


He can feel Laura’s judgemental glare through the fucking  _phone_. She even says something after that but Derek misses it trying to figure out what the object standing in the middle of the road is. The blue blob, Derek realizes in a flash, is someone’s Jeep. A really unlucky someone because it looks like they're having car troubles. The poor bastard.

 

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re finally starting to act like normal human beings around each other? It’s kind of sad how this qualifies as progress.”  
  


Any other person and Derek would punch their teeth in but this is Laura and she’s his older sister. “Yeah.” He admits, more than a little distracted by the sight of a body leaning into the Jeep hood. Maybe he ought to help? Or at least ask if they want help. He could offer his phone to them and cut his call to Laura short, a win-win scenario.   
  


“What do you plan on doing now?” Laura inquires, “You need to make some kind of move Derek. Make your intentions clear and lock him in before some other guy or girl swoops in and steals Stiles out from under your stubborn nose.”  
  


There’s something very familiar about the legs that are shifting in the two inches of water gathered by the curbside. Derek frowns as he comes within earshot of the Jeep. “God dammit!” A familiar voice curses, popping out from under the hood. “Why you gotta do this to me, baby?!"   
  


"Stiles?” Derek asks, ignoring the surprised noise Laura makes at the other end of the line. The freshman starts, whipping around so fast that it’s a miracle he doesn’t get whiplash.  
  


The teenager is soaked all the way down, looking very much like a sad, wet cat as he blinks up at Derek. “Derek,” Stiles replies, swiping a hand over his face before he raises one palm over his hands to shade his eyes from the rain. “What are you doing here?”  
  


Laura is now yelling demanding questions down the phone but Derek ignores her teeny voice. It’s not something he’s interested in listening to right now. “I’ll call you back, Laura.” Derek says, dropping the call without a second thought. “I was on my way back from class. Having car troubles?”  
  


There’s a flicker of something that passes over Stiles’ face. Hurt? Maybe disappointment? It flits away so fast that Derek is left at a loss to explain, much less define it. “Yeah.” Stiles gives his Jeep a woeful glance. “She just stopped all of a sudden and I can’t figure out what’s wrong."   
  


Stiles flicks his gaze over at Derek, suddenly hopeful. "I don’t suppose you know anything about cars?"   
  


With a tiny twinge of regret, Derek shakes his head. "Sorry. Cars are my more my brothers’ forte.” Although now he wishes that he’d paid attention to Adam when he’d tried to teach Derek the basics of car maintenance. “But I can walk you back to my place? Or yours?” Derek offers, shaking his umbrella lightly from side to side. “Which ever’s closer.”  
  


“What about my Jeep?” Stiles asks, already stepping over to stand under the meager shelter that the umbrella gave him. His arms curl around his body, shoulders hunching up thanks to the cold. He looks horribly cold and Derek wishes he'd worn his jacket today.   
  


Derek holds his phone out, waiting for Stiles to take it while pushing more of the umbrella over Stiles’ head. He can deal with a wet shoulder so long as Stiles doesn’t get even more soaked. “Call Roadside Assistance. I’ve got the number in there.” Derek nods at his phone before he looks over at the Jeep. “Do you need to get anything from inside?”  
  


Stiles has the phone already up to his ear, half distracted by the ringtone before he processes Derek’s question. “What? Oh. Yeah, my bag.” The teenager hops forward, with Derek quickly following to make sure that Stiles doesn’t soak up more of the rain.   
  


Derek raises his eyes up, doing the best he can to  _not_ stare at the pale expanse of damp skin that’s revealed to him when Stiles stretches out over the drivers seat to grab at his bag while talking to the person on the other end. Nope, he’s not going to look at the skin, much less wonder if he puts his lips there, would he taste salty sweat or sweet rain water. Not at all. Not Derek.  
  


“Great! Great, thanks!” Stiles declares, sighing in relief as he pulls himself out of the vehicle. Derek looks back and regrets it immediately. Stiles’ shirt is still hiked up, clinging wetly to his body just high enough to reveal the shockingly thick trail of hair dipping down into his tight jeans. Which are clinging to Stiles’ thighs in a way that’s turning Derek’s mouth dry.  
  


It takes a considerable effort to drag his eyes up and keep them there on Stiles’ pink face. “They said they’ll come in 5 minutes and tow the Jeep to my dorm. Once the rain lets up, they’ll send someone around to see what’s wrong with it.” Derek nods, certain that if he were to speak now, he’s going to sound like a frog with a sore throat.   
  


Stiles hefts his bag up, tugs his shirt down and points forward. “Your place then? Scott’s kind of sexiled me from mine.” They both look down at the phone that begins to ring shrilly in Derek’s hand. Derek notes that it’s Laura and quickly swipes to decline the call. Nope. Not right now.  
  


He turns the phone on silent before tucking it away safe in his bag. When he looks up, Stiles is gazing intently at him. “Girlfriend?” He asks in a strangely neutral tone.  
  


Derek makes a face, one hand wrapped gently around Stiles’ elbow to get him to move. “ _No_. Sister.” He pauses and corrects himself, “ _Meddling_  older sister. No girlfriend to speak of. Or boyfriend.” There. That was making his intent clear, right? Or at the very least demonstrating that Derek was available.  
  


“Oh.” Stiles’ lips twitch up at the corner as he ducks his head, almost smiling before he says, “Cool.”  
  


“Yeah.” Derek offers in return.  
  


–-  
  


Derek pushes the door open and waits for Stiles to step in first. The teenager glances at him, liquid quick, before he takes a tentative step in. And immediately sucks in an awed breath. “ _Wow_.” Stiles declares, “This is… this is a pretty good room! How’d you manage to land this?”  
  


“Luck?” He offers because that’s mostly true and there’s an umbrella to shake and prop up against the corner. That earns him a dirty look from Stiles that makes him crack a half smile. “How about I get us some towels and change of clothes?” Derek points at the door on the right. “Bathroom’s there. I’ll get you something to wear.”  
  


Stiles immediately hops forward, making a grab for the handle as though it’ll disappear in the next minute. He throws the door open and begins to grumble about how lucky Derek is that he’s got his own bathroom, ‘even if it is teeny ass tiny’. He’s not arguing that one.  
  


He walks over the cupboard, pulling out a fresh t-shirt, hoodie and sweatpants for Stiles along with the fluffiest towel he can find in a hurry. The bathroom door is still open, just a inch or two but open. Derek opts to knock before pushing the door in.  
  


Stiles is half way through pulling his wet shirts off, plaid layer already off and resting on top of the small marble counter, wet cotton clinging to the teenagers surprisingly built body. Derek’s throat and lips go dry in an instant, making his voice sound hoarse when he holds up the clothes in his hands. “Here. You can change in here. I’ll be outside.”  
  


It’s hard not to stand and stare at the blush that’s turning Stiles’ face pink. “Thanks.” Stiles replies, yanking his shirt off to reveal pale, pale skin that’s going to haunt Derek’s dreams for many nights to come. And there’s a few moles that make his fingers itch with the desire to reach out and touch.  
  


With a stiff nod, Derek steps out and closes the door. He stands there, staring at the wood and wonders if he ought to follow Laura’s advice. He  _could_ very well make some kind of move here but…  _should_  he? Derek considers this as he quickly changes into his comfortable sweats, gray under shirt and zip-up sweater.   
  


The bathroom door opens with a quiet click right as Derek’s shrugging the sweater on. As Stiles steps out, book bag in hand, Derek feels like someone’s punched him in the solar plexus because Stiles is in his room.  _Stiles_  is standing in the middle of his room, wearing  _his_ clothes and looking like he  _belongs_.   
  


“So uuuh… thanks for this.” Stiles says, fingers tugging on the hoodie strings. He looks… he looks  _good_ in Derek’s clothes. Like they fit and don’t fit at the same time. Derek wants to reach out, take hold of Stiles’ fingers that are peeking out from under a sleeve, drag him into bed under the covers and make out until it stops raining.  
  


He watches Stiles as the freshmen examines the bookshelf contents before turning his attention towards the semi-messy study table. Just the  _thought_  of keeping Stiles in his room makes Derek feel dizzy and light headed. He takes a step forward, feeling as though he’s lumbering through molasses or quick sand instead of cool air.   
  


Derek’s ready to reach out and…  
  


His brain blanks out at that.  
  


Reach out and do  _what_?  
  


He’s trying to figure that out when Stiles turns to him, eyes bright and questioning. “You okay?” Derek blinks owlishly into Stiles’ worried eyes. “You look a little… off.” Stiles touches him, with far more gentleness than Derek thinks he deserves.  
  


Derek shakes off the heavy feeling that’s wrapped around his head. “I’m fine. Just a little cold.”  
  


Stiles doesn’t look like he completely believes him but lets it go all the same, much to Derek’s relief. “You’d better get into bed. Or drink something hot. It’d suck pretty hard if you got sick two weeks before finals.” Derek pulls a face at the thought - 'suck pretty hard’ would be an understatement to end all understatements.  
  


“I’ll do that.” He replies, sticking his hands into the hoodie. Maybe this way he won’t actually reach out for Stiles, who is fidgeting and rocking on his heels as he awkwardly glances around the room. “I guess you need to be on your way?” Derek asks, giving Stiles a way out.  
  


The eager nod he gets would almost be hurtful were it not for the fact that he feels more than a little awkward as well. Only in his case, it’s this crushing sense of 'what the hell am I supposed to do to get him to know that I like him?’   
  


“Yeah.” Stiles replies with a wane smile, “I’ve got to get to the library. Report to finish.” The smile widens into something more genuine and teasing when he speaks on, “Don’t suppose I could borrow an umbrella?”  
  


Derek ducks his head and chuckles, shaking his head lightly before he looks up. Right into Stiles’ stunned face. “What?” Derek asks, smile dimming in his confusion.  
  


Stiles shakes his head, looking as stunned as a cat that just got bopped on the head. “Nothing. It’s just… That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.” Derek’s… not sure how to take that. But his heart beat picks up anyways, nervous and excited in the same go. It goes into overtime when Stiles gives him a quiet little smile. “You should do that more often. Laugh, I mean.”  
  


Scratching his cheeks to hide his embarrassment, Derek looks away and tries not to grin out the bashful warmth that’s bubbling up in him. “Thanks I guess.” He replies, glancing up at Stiles between one blink and the next.   
  


Part of his nerves are soothed when he notices the nervous tilt to Stiles’ smile. “Umbrella’s over there by the door.” Derek says quietly, not even bothering to point towards the item because it’s more important that he keep his eyes, all his attention on Stiles.  
  


The teenager blinks slowly, warm eyes looking dazedly up at Derek even as he takes a wobbly step back. “Yeah.” Stiles sounds like he’s a million miles away, “Thanks for everything. Clothes, umbrella and all."   
  


Derek winds up dumbly following Stiles to the door, feeling a lot like he's been seduced by Stiles in some mysterious way. It’s a strange little chase that lasts less than three steps back and ends when Stiles’ stops by the door with a heavy thud and leans down to grab the umbrella. Somehow he misses, causing it to fall to the ground.  
  


Stiles ducks down quickly to sweep the umbrella up, turning around with a blush on his cheeks. The pink color deepens to red when he notices how close Derek is standing. Derek finds it terribly endearing and wants to reach out and feel that warmth under his palms.

 

"So I’ll just…” Stiles stammers, jerking a thumb back at the door.   
  


“Yeah.” Derek nods.  
  


There’s a nod and Stiles turns around, finally breaking eye contact, to face the door. Derek stands and waits for Stiles to turn the handle and walk out but Stiles… doesn’t.  
  


Derek shifts to the side, leaning over to catch a glimpse of Stiles’ expression so that he can gauge if everything is alright or not. “Stiles?” Derek asks concernedly.  
  
  


There isn’t even a twitch from Stiles to acknowledge Derek or his question. Derek wonders if he ought to try again, taking a step closer. At the same moment, Stiles turns around on his heel and meets his puzzled gaze dead on.  
  


Stiles’ eyes are soft but determined when he steps up to Derek and firmly states, “See you around Derek.” and kisses him on the cheek before bolting out the door like a hare being chased by a bloodhound.  
  


Uncertain of what just happened, Derek raises a hand up to touch the spot on his cheek that feels like it’s been zapped with a tiny electrical charge. His heart is doing a happy samba with his stomach and his lungs have laid down declaring themselves unfit for use for the next 10 minutes and his overall mental state is  _'Huh. So that just happened.’_  
  


Boyd walks past his open door, glancing in idly as he walk by. He’s not even taken two steps before he backs up to eye Derek warily. “You okay?” The younger man asks.  
  


Derek can only nod dumbly. Guess he can tell Laura that Stiles made a move before him.  
  


\--  
  


“ _He did_   ** _what_** _?!_ ” Derek cringes at Laura’s screech, pulling the phone away from his ear. He makes a face and wonders if he’s just imagining the ringing or whether it’s a result of suddenly being on the receiving end of a surprised scream.   
  


Sighing, Derek brings the phone back to his ear. “Say it a little louder why don’t you. I don’t think they heard that in China.”  
  


He’s certain that were they face to face, Laura would be slapping his arm right now. “Shut up! How  _else_ did you expect me to react when you told me that he kissed you!”  
  


“On the cheek.”  
  


His correction gets waved away like it’s a annoying pest. Maybe a mosquito. “Like that matters!  _He. kissed. you_!”  
  


Are those squeaking sounds the couch? Is his older sister bouncing in her seat in delight? Derek hides his face in his palm and tries not to groan. “ _Please_ tell me you’re not bouncing on the couch.”  
  


The pause that follows is distinctly amused in nature, or else he’ll eat his favorite baseball cap. “What did you do?” Laura asks instead. “Did you kiss him back? Ask him out? Make out with him? Do the dirty in your dorm room?”  
  


Even though he’s alone in his room and the door is closed and he can make as many aggravated noises as he wants, Derek doesn’t want to give Laura the pleasure of it. So he pinches the bridge of his nose, counts to 15 and back before muttering, “Of  _course_ not! Not everyone jumps into bed at the drop of a hat!”  
  


“Not everyone’s super cautious like you are!” Laura retaliates immediately, “I think I’ve seen _sloths_ make a move faster than you."   
  


Now that is just rude! He’s not cautious! Derek just… okay fine, he’s really cautious about taking the next step. But he’s allowed that considering what happened with Kate and all.  
  


"You can’t blame me for that.” He mutters under his breath, half hoping that Laura won’t catch it but she does.  
  


The pause this time is longer, more uncomfortable. Derek falls back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling, feeling like he’s 15 again and angsting over his break up with Paige. Or 22 and wondering what had driven Kate to try and get him expelled.  
  


Laura’s voice is soft but firm as she speaks. “Derek. I know that Kate did a number on you and it’s understandable why you’d be more hesitant about dating new people. But it’s been three years.”  
  


It’s easy to read between the lines here, Derek’s only been hearing it more and more often as time has happened - you need to move on, you need to start opening up to people, you should start seeing someone, you need to find someone new, stop using her as a crutch. He gets it. He hates it but he gets it. But it’s never felt like the right _time_ to look for someone to move on with.  
  


Until Stiles.  
  


And it’s left him feeling more clumsy than ever before. “I know.” Derek sighs. He  _wants_ to trust Stiles and let him in but. “I’m scared Laura.” His voice is too low, too childish and Derek wants to hide under his pillow for a month. “I know he’s not Kate but I still…” He still can’t help but wonder if Stiles is only pretending to like him while plotting the demise of his academic career because of some weird family grudge that actually died out a generation ago but Stiles can’t forget about it.  
  


“That’s the key point though. He's  _not_ Kate. He’s always been honest with you, right?”  
  


True, Stiles has. Painfully so even.  
  


“That alone makes him different. Plus!” Laura continues in a more chipper tone. “Do you really think that Erica would like him if he was  _anything_ like Kate?” Again true. His friend has been more than a little protective about him ever since the truth had come out about Kate. And Erica _had_ said right from the start that Kate gave her the "heeby jeebies". “You won’t get anywhere if you don’t take a chance.”  
  


Laura’s gentle voice bolsters what little courage he’s screwed up and it makes him reply, “Alright. I will.”  
  


It takes him two days to figure out a plan of action - a simple one at that. Go to the student library, sit down at the same table with Stiles, strike up a conversation, ask Stiles out somewhere in the middle and voilà! Chance taken!  
  


What could go wrong in a plan so basic! So easy!  
  


As it turns out, plenty.  
  


On his way to the library, Derek’s umbrella fell victim to the strong winds and turned inside out. He arrives at the library soaked all the way down to his bone, shivering in the cool air as he ignores the few odd looks he gets and searches for Stiles. Who is sitting in his usual spot with his angry-concentration face on, headphones plugged in and fingers moving speedily over the keyboard.  
  


While he waffles over what to do, Stiles glances up and catches sight of his soaked form. Immediately the man shoots up to his feet. And is just as fast jerked down thanks to his headphone wires. He always did keep telling Stiles to get ones with a longer wire.  
  


Derek tries not to grin at Stiles’ muffled cursing, walking over towards the man. “Stupid piece of idiotic- _heeey_ Derek.” He feels warm despite his wet clothes because of the shy smile Stiles gives him. “Fancy seeing you here. In the library. Where you come every day except the last two days.”

The way Stiles cringes and looks away embarrassed, scrubbing his hands over the back of his neck, endears Derek so. He feels bad for avoiding Stiles for those 48 hours but he'd needed some time to clear his head and figure out what he was going to do. All the while wondering if has Stiles missed him. If Stiles has been waiting for his answer for these past two days, hoping lessening with every passing hour that Derek didn’t show up.  
  


Guilt curls around his throat, his entire being unhappy at the thought of being the cause of Stiles’ unhappiness. Derek’s more than a little taken aback at the strength of that feeling. It makes his voice tremble the tiniest bit. “I needed to think things over."   
  


Why his words cause a sharp stab of fear to zip through Stiles’ eyes Derek does not know. But he is quick to explain himself, wondering if this can count as part of his plan. This counts as a conversation right? "About you and us. I didn’t want to… I wanted to think about  what I wanted. About how I should reply to your kiss.”  
  


Derek gets distracted by the way Stiles bites down on his lower lip, worrying it as he mules over Derek’s words. It takes him a beat to long to remember that he should be looking up. Thankfully it seems that Stiles hasn’t caught his staring, what with his own eyes staring a hole into the carpet.   
  


There’s a vulnerable,  _tired_ air around Stiles as he seems to fight the urge to crumple into his own body. The shaky rattle of his inhale echoes inside Derek’s own chest, aching in sympathy. His arms twitch by his side when Stiles finally asks in a voice so low, so young, “What did you decide then?”  
  


Considering the fact that his plan has gone off course  _long_ ago, Derek thinks it’s only fitting that he takes his chance right here, right now. One step closer and the tips of his shoes are touching Stiles’. He reaches cool hands up to gently take hold of Stiles’ face and tip it up towards him.  
  


Stiles’ eyes are big, brown and wet around the edges but filled with a startled kind of wonder. The kind of look you see on someone’s face when they get the surprise of a lifetime. It unwittingly makes him smile and rub his thumbs into the flush that’s spread over Stiles’ nose and cheeks.   
  


He leans in slowly, intent clear as Derek half-closes his eyes. Stiles’ body twitches in his grasp, a startled gasp flying past Derek’s cheek as he deliberately, slowly presses his lips to Stiles’ cheek. It’s the opposite of Stiles’ kiss but that doesn’t make it any less potent or lacking in emotion.  
  


When he pulls away, reluctant and face warm, Derek smiles shyly down at the blushing man staring at him. His fingers skim down a sharp jaw and parted lips in a quick brush, enjoying the soft swell of Stiles’ mouth against his rough fingertips.  
  


Derek’s heart drowns out the last vestiges of panic, thumpa-thump-ing with happiness at the dazed look that’s spread over Stiles’ face. “Does that answer your question?” He asks, waiting for a positive response to his question.  
  


The fog seems to life partially from Stiles’ brain, replaced with the kind of softness Derek’s never seen before on this man’s face. “I-”  
  


Derek abruptly turns his head away, sneezing loud enough to make a girl three tables away start. “Sorry.” Derek apologizes, sniffling and rubbing his nose. “You were saying.”  
  


The damage however is done as Stiles stares with horror at Derek’s damp clothes. “Dude! You’re gonna catch a cold if you stay here any longer! We need to get you home and warm!”  
  


There’s a dirty suggestion sitting on the tip of his tongue but so is another sneeze. This time the girl doesn’t jump so much as glare at him. Oh if looks could kill, Derek would be dead five times over.   
  


–-

“Somehow I’m not even surprised that you’re a grumpy patient.” Stiles muses while squinting at the thermometer in his hands. “Congratulations, you have a fever.”  
  


Derek does  _not_ make a face and does  _not_ crawl a little deeper into the pile of blankets Stiles’ has tossed on his bed. “How bad izzit?” Derek asks, feeling like someone’s stuffed cotton in between his ears. He brings his hand up to rub his left ear, groaning when he realizes that it does nothing to help.  
  


Stiles wheels towards the study table to put the thermometer away and pull his laptop out of his bag. “38.3. Lets see…”  
  


Derek sniffles and tries not to feel  _too_ miserable as he listens to Stiles’ type away. After Stiles had pushed them both out of the library insisting that he was going to take Derek home and make sure that he was taken care of, Derek had managed to get another kiss. It was another cheek kiss but Stiles’ quiet, “If you weren’t sick then I’d totally kiss you on the mouth. No offense but I don’t want to risk catching a cold right now.”  
  


“According to the Internet, taking a a cool bath might help bring your temperature down.” Stiles’ sly voice pulls Derek out of his dazed thoughts. “Also wearing less clothes and not so many blankets.” He opens his eyes to catch sight of Stiles comically waggling his eyebrows at him. “Want me to help with that?”  
  


With a muffled groan, Derek pulls a blanket over his head as Stiles laughs. Derek finds himself smiling behind the soft material in wry manner and he notes that the sound of the rain has tapered off, replaced with the sound of a curious songbird. The long spell of rainy days has finally ended then. 

 


End file.
